I was a criminal, stole you away
by paradisdesbilles
Summary: Marian notices her the first time she settles in camp with the Merry Men – far enough from the little streets to have enough privacy, close enough to help in case of emergency. It is strange, a woman that is not her, but Marian doesn't think much of it at first.


Marian notices her the first time she settles in camp with the Merry Men – far enough from the little streets to have enough privacy, close enough to help in case of emergency. It is strange, a woman that is not her, but Marian doesn't think much of it at first. Mostly because she has a lot on her plate as it is, what with her husband being in love with the Evil Queen – he can deny it as he wants, it is written plainly on his face, and Marian wonders what happened to the man she fell in love with.

The other woman leaves her thoughts as fast as she entered them.

That is, until Marian finds herself curse-free but husband-less, wandering the woods with Roland's hand secured in hers. She finds the Merry Men's camp easily because, despite what they claim, they aren't that good as hiding their tracks. It is awkward at first, living with them again, living with them but without Robin. There is a tension in the air Marian knows will take time to go away. That's okay, she isn't perfectly confident about the situation, either.

It gets better when Much praises her cooking, saying how much he missed having food that is actually edible, and the other agree all too enthusiastically. That's when Marian sees her again, staying in the background with a plate in her hands, as if unsure of what she is supposed to do.

She is lean and strong, born a fighter and built a warrior – Marian can understand what she is doing here. Even more so with the lost, careful look to her eyes. The Merry Men are a band of misfits, brigands, but mostly they don't belong anywhere less, alone and lonely. This one looks lonely enough to Marian. She understands.

So she walks towards the other woman, a kind smile on her lips and even kinder look in her eyes. "You should help yourself before they eat it all."

The woman – she doesn't quite smile, but the corner of her mouth twitches a bit, and Marian thinks it is enough for now. She can recognize a frightened deer when she sees one.

"I'm Marian, by the way. I don't think we have been introduced yet."

"Mulan," is all she says, before a tense, awkward silence settles between them, one Marian doesn't know how to break. She never was familiar with women, not even before Robin barged into her life, and so knows little of friendship, companionship, with people of her own sex.

Mulan stares at her for a little while longer before she leaves abruptly to move closer to the fire. She has two generous ladleful of stew before she sits cross-legged on the ground, and doesn't say another word that night.

…

She makes regular journey in town, if only because Roland has the sweetest tooth known to mankind and so begs her to buy ice creams, sweets, and a hundred other things that make little to no sense to Marian. Thankfully, the woman they call Granny is generous enough to give her son treats without asking for compensation – something about knowing the lot of them, and so knowing they will find a way to pay her in some other way at some point.

It is on one of those occasions, maple syrup all over Roland's mouth as he stuffs himself with pancakes, that a woman approaches Marian. She's but a child, really, even if she holds a child of her own on her hip, and it reminds Marian of her own few days as a mother.

She smiles kindly, shyly. "People say Mulan is staying with you. Is that true?"

"Indeed," is all she finds to reply – is there anything else to say, really?

"Can – can you tell her Aurora says hello? And that – she can come by, any time. For tea, perhaps?"

The girl looks uncomfortable, but Marian knows better than to pry in other people's business – those problems are not hers, and she respects the intimacy and past of her Merry Men. Merry Ones. So she nods, and the girl nods back with a thank you, and Marian takes Roland's hand, tells him they have to go to another shop before going back home.

It is only later that night, when the sun is low and the sky dark, that Marian sees Mulan, remembers. She hesitates, if only for a second, but doesn't want to be the kind of person who breaks a promise, so she walks toward Mulan.

"Aurora sends you her greetings."

The warrior's face isn't an open book in general, but she closes herself off even more so than usual at the mention of the name only. Her eyes are dark and cloudy and – and hurt, so much hurt. So Marian doesn't mention the invitation for tea.

She forces herself to forget, but finds herself wondering at night.

Perhaps they aren't so different, after all.

…

Mulan gets drunk not three days later. Marian blames it on Granny's deal with the Merry Ones, because there is no other explanation as to why one of them would manage to get drunk on cheap ale otherwise, when what little they do earn is used to buy food and clothes. It is the she-wolf who comes and finds Marian, tells her something is wrong. She runs to the inn with Little John in tow, and finds Mulan drunkenly asleep at one of the booths, nursing a mug of beer. She thanks Ruby for warning her – the innkeeper just nods back, stiffly, and mumbles something about heartbreaks and discretion. Marian doesn't ask.

Instead, she gently shakes Mulan's shoulder, watches as the other woman stirs slightly. She will have an impressive headache to keep her heartache company tomorrow morning, but Marian worries more about bringing her safe back to camp.

"Can you walk?"

A groan is the only thing Mulan replies before Little John scoops her up into his arms and leaves the inn without a word. She looks so little like that, fragile almost, and Marian can only guess she will despise that show of weakness once morning comes. But she has to learn it, one way or another – Merry Ones always have each other's back, regardless of decorum or shame.

She's pulling the covers over Mulan's body when she grabs Marian's hand, refuses to let go. They stare at each other for a while, eyes as hard as they are hazy. "I loved her. I loved her and she loves him and they have a _child_." She spits the word like a curse. "How do you do it? Going on with your life knowing you weren't enough?"

It punches Marian in the guts.

She doesn't have an answer to that question.

…

Things get… better? easier? after that. Mulan remains closed-off, but not as much as she used to be, and Marian even catches her deep in conversation with Friar Tuck one day, some complex debate about the different religions of the Enchanted Forest. It is a start, at least, even if the smiles are still a rarity.

Mulan comes to accept Marian more easily, too. She takes a liking in Roland, when he claims he is old enough to learn how to use a sword now – not even five yet, but old enough. So they make him a sword out of a wooden stick, and he practices with Mulan ("The best warrior in all the lands, Mama!") for hours every day. Marian has never seen him sleeping so well, too exhausted to toss in his bed when comes the time to say goodnight, and it is a relief in itself. It is hard to sleep at night, between his nightmares and hers.

It is during one of those nights, when sleep evades her so she sits against a tree and looks up to the stars, that Mulan finds her. She moves quietly and sits next to Marian in silence, and they remain that way for a very long time – it is confortable, this companionship building between them.

Mulan, surprisingly, is the one who speaks up.

"They say you are the one who helped Snow White when she was an outcast. Is it true?"

A bittersweet smile graces her lips at the memory – years, for everyone else, but only days, weeks ago for her. When she closes her eyes, she can see the lost princess in the forest, afraid and confused, see all the people who helped in secret, helped in silence, see the resistance a little stronger each day. She refuses to think of Snow White now, of her alliance with the Evil Queen – refuses to let today tarnish the memories of yesterday.

Instead, she opens her eyes again and glances Mulan's way. "They say you dressed as a man to fight in the last Ogre War."

Mulan nods, solemnly, and Marian can see she is lost in her own head, her own thoughts. She gives her that moment, lets the silent forest wrap around them soothingly.

It may be minutes or it may be hours, before Mulan speaks again.

"She already had her True Love when I met her. I knew it was a lost cause."

She isn't looking for empty words, useless apologies, so Marian doesn't offer her those. Instead, she looks back to the stars with a sigh. "He cheated on me when I was cursed with the woman who murdered me."

"You win that one."

They look at each other from the corner of their eyes and Marian can't help but laugh at the depressing stupidity of such a conversation. But at least it brings a smile to Mulan's lips, so there is that.

"I'm glad you're here. It is hard sometimes, living surrounded by men."

There is a silence, then, "Please, don't braid my hair or something of the like."

Marian laughs again, the sounds bubbling out of her before she can stop them, and she bumps Mulan's shoulder with her own as she shakes her head.

…

She hasn't held a sword in what feels like centuries – archery has always been her forte – but Roland insists and so she obliges. Fighting against the best warrior in all the realms isn't the best way to get back on track, and she knows her muscles will make her suffer comes tomorrow.

Mulan, quite literally, makes her look like a fool. It was to be expected.

They swords meet in a clash of metal and she feels the impact of it run through her arm seconds before she loses her balance. Her first reflex (mistake) is to hold on to something, and that something happens to be Mulan's shirt, so they obviously fall together – it happens slowly and Marian sees the other woman's eyes widening in surprise – in a pile of fabric and metal and tangled limbs. Marian's back hurts, legs hurt, everything hurt, yet she can only laugh at how ridiculous the entire thing is.

Laughs and then stops, when she notices how close her face is to Mulan's – she can see every flicker of gold in her brown eyes, the barely-there freckles dusting her cheeks. Marian hesitates, for a second, before she leans forward. Her lips brush Mulan's in a soft kiss, tentative and curious at first, until Mulan deepens it.

They break away under the whistles and catcalls of the Merry Men and, for the first time, Marian hears Mulan laugh.


End file.
